


Shut Me Up

by SpaMightWrite



Category: Professional Wrestling, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Belts, Gags, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Outercourse, Punishment, Rimming, Teasing, Whipping, bratty sub, hot dogging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-28
Updated: 2016-09-28
Packaged: 2018-08-18 07:34:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8154215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SpaMightWrite/pseuds/SpaMightWrite
Summary: After Smackdown 9/27/16, Dean isn't too happy with the way his match with AJ ended. He plans to dish out some punishment to his lover/rival. Dean is a dick when he wants to be, but AJ is an even worse dick.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [iggypup87](https://archiveofourown.org/users/iggypup87/gifts).



> Commission for my lovely iggypup87! We're best friends in wrestlesmut at this point, and he deserves all of the filthy AJ Styles material in the world. Hope everybody else enjoys, too!
> 
> Also it took all of my willpower not to title this "Shut Your Cakehole, Irene". So. You're welcome.

“ _Really?!_ Grabbing the tights?!” Dean practically kicked the locker room door open, his face red and damp and twitching with rage. His back still ached from tangling with not only John Cena, but his opponent that night, who put up one hell of an effort for most of the fight.

Until that sneaky fucker pulled on the back of his jeans for that pin. Now _that_ was what really pissed him off.

Well. Right up until the moment he saw him sitting on the bench, wearing nothing but the title belt over his lap and a smug-ass grin on his lips. 

“Dean! Fancy seein’ you here.” AJ barely even tried to feign surprise. Like he was running into him at the gym or some shit. What a fucking asshole.

Dean rolled his eyes and let the door shut behind him. He remembered at the last moment to turn the lock before it fully closed. “Yeah, fancy seein’ me here. Like you didn’t just fuck me over outta getting that belt back, you fuckin’ dick.” He took off the gym towel around his neck and pitched it at AJ, who caught it expertly. As if he wasn’t smug enough as it was.

“Whaaaat?” he laughed, letting the towel drop to the bench. “All’s’ fair, right? Like you wouldn’ta done the same if you were the one who had this.” AJ gestured toward the belt with both hands, his eyebrow raised and his smile crooked. Because he clearly wasn’t just pointing at the belt.

Dean huffed through his nose. This motherfucker, this absolute fucking dick. Like he knew exactly what was coming and thought he’d be forgiven if he got naked immediately. Like Dean would forget what just happened as soon as he saw the little trail of hair on AJ’s stomach leading tantalizingly down to--

No. It wouldn’t work on Dean. Not for a single second.

He at least had to make him pay first.

“Head down, ass up,” he growled, approaching AJ with his shoulders hunched forward.

AJ laughed. The little brat. “Oooh, somebody’s all business over here. You really can’t wait to get your hands on all this?”

No, he couldn’t, really. But AJ didn’t have to know that. Dean took a fistful of AJ’s damp hair and pulled his head back, relishing in the grimace that spread across his face. That, that was what Dean loved to see. The mixture of anticipation and delicious pain that put a flush of red across AJ’s cheeks. 

Well. The ones on his face, anyway. AJ needed a lesson in humility, and so Dean would have to make the other two match.

“If you had any sense you would shut your smartass mouth,” rumbled Dean. He reached down to pick up the title belt before AJ could get his hands back on it. AJ was already twitching hard underneath, and Dean was not surprised at all. “Think you can steal from me, huh? ‘Cuz you can’t stand when somebody’s gotta shiny new toy and you don’t?”

AJ was already panting hard, his tongue peeking out from between his parted lips. It was possible AJ was enjoying this a little bit too much. He would learn soon enough; Dean would make sure of it.

“Head. Down.”

Dean let go of AJ’s hair and watched him finally follow directions. AJ, still with that hint of smugness at the corners of his mouth, nodded and assumed the position on the bench - on his knees, his head resting on his forearms that lay flat against the wood. He was still acting like a little brat, but at least he was complying.

Baby steps, Dean told himself as he held the smooth leather in his rough fingers. It was then it dawned on him.

“You want this so bad?” he asked, holding the title belt by the middle, bending down so AJ could look him in the eye. “You want it back, do ya? Answer.”

AJ swallowed, but his smile didn’t fade. “Wouldn’ta kept it tonight if I didn’t.”

And then he let out a yelp as the leather strap whipped against his bare ass, moaning while the skin began to redden with the impact. Dean barely gave him a moment’s respite before whipping the side strap into his ass again. AJ’s gasping was just too fucking delicious for him to stop. He had no idea how many lashes it would take before he was satisfied, but Dean was very willing to experiment. 

AJ squirmed with every blow, his tight, phenomenal thighs grinding together as he grew harder. Unable to touch himself in that position, it was all he could do to relieve the pressure. Finally, when Dean decided he’d had enough, he pressed a kiss against the logo on the front of the belt and set it gently down on the opposite bench. AJ’s perfect, round, smooth ass was now marred with several blooms of stinging pink welts. His back shined with sweat, which beaded along his spine and ran down to soak into his hair. 

God, he looked so delicious like that.

Dean really couldn’t help himself. He was only human. He straddled the bench behind AJ and set his hands against AJ’s ass cheeks. Dean smirked as he felt AJ’s muscles twitch under his fingers, the intense heat of his skin centered on each welt. He could imagine AJ was aching between his legs. And this really wouldn’t help with that.

Dean’s tongue, so often lewdly hanging out of his mouth, slid into the crevice between his hands, making AJ shudder and moan loud. _Bratty fucking slut,_ Dean thought. He would have said it aloud but he was enjoying the tight ring of muscle under his tongue far too much. The taste of AJ’s sweat. The way he knew AJ was biting his lip and failing badly at containing his whimpers. Just beautiful.

But then he had to ruin it. Dean was having a _moment_ , and AJ had to ruin it.

“That… that all ya got?” AJ chuckled in between desperate moans. “This is why I took that belt off ya… Can’t seal the deal, huh?”

Dean came up for air for a moment, his fingernails digging into AJ’s flesh. “You better shut your whore mouth, AJ--”

“Or what?” AJ lifted his head and looked back from the corner of his eye. “Lemme guess, you’re gonna shut it for me, right? Little whippin’ ain’t gonna do it, I promise.”

Dean’s mouth twitched. Here he was, eating him out after his punishment, and AJ has to be an ass about it. Dean spotted AJ’s discarded gear on the floor at that moment, his gloves sitting neatly on top. He was a genius, if he had to say so himself. Struck by inspiration for the third time that night.

Dean snatched up the gloves and crouched down where AJ’s head was resting. “Yeah? I bet this’ll do it.” He shoved the bundle of fabric into AJ’s mouth before he could say anything else. His muffled frustration was downright melodic at this point, the glare in his eyes even more gorgeous than usual.

“Much better,” Dean laughed as he stood up straight and walked back around. “If you’re gonna be like that, I ain’t gonna be so nice to ya anymore.” He began unbuckling his belt, imagining that AJ was looking forward to getting filled up in a few moments. The fastenings of his jeans came open with little effort, and Dean sighed with anticipation as he pulled his briefs down to let his rock-hard cock free. It was beading with precum already as he stood over AJ, the both of them panting with excitement.

AJ probably would have asked Dean what he was waiting for, if he wasn't gagged by his own gloves. Dean took a moment to appreciate the silence before he threw one leg over the bench and placed his hand on the small of AJ’s back. He pushed AJ’s hips downward until he was at just the right height. 

Dean let his hands wander and squeeze AJ’s ass, firm and inviting. He lined up his cock with the canyon in the middle of AJ’s cheeks and pressed it between them. He heard AJ gasp, somehow, barely audible underneath the gag and the rush of blood to Dean’s ears as his cock throbbed. 

The softness of AJ’s flesh, the slickness he’d made there with his tongue, felt so goddamn good. Paired with the desperate, high whimpering muffled by fabric, and the tensing of his muscles against Dean’s cock in a futile effort for release, Dean knew he couldn't draw this out for himself.

“That's right,” he exhaled while he pressed even harder. “That's right, you're gonna feel what it's like to have exactly what you want just outta your reach…”

Dean began thrusting his hips forward, hands on AJ’s hips and gripping him tightly. AJ’s hole twitched against the muscle of his cock, signaling just how badly he needed to get fucked right then and there in the locker room. But the friction against AJ’s tight muscles, his ass squeezing around several sides of Dean’s cock, that was more than enough for Dean to get off. His pleasure welled up into the pit of his taut stomach, each pulse of his cock making his head swim even deeper.

Sweat beading on his forehead, hair soaked and sticking to his skin, grunting with every thrust, Dean’s vision started to blur. And yet his target was clear in his sight - AJ’s extremely pretty hair, chestnut brown and shining under the fluorescent lights above. It was still damp just with sweat from their match, but Dean would change that imminently.

His fingernails dug into AJ’s hips. The pleasure pulsing into his cock was teetering on the edge, the slit leaking with precum and dripping lightly onto AJ’s lower back. It was out of his control at that point. Dean was only of one mind, rutting instinctually until his basest needs were fulfilled. He swore under his breath and gritted out each word more desperately every time.

Finally, with no warning for him or AJ, Dean’s cock spilled his orgasm hot and powerful into AJ’s hair. Dean moaned loudly into the air, exaggerating it just a little bit; but not by much, if he had to be honest. He heard AJ groan underneath him as cum soaked into his hair, the indignity becoming far too much for him to smirk through anymore.

Dean braced himself against AJ’s back as he gathered his faculties once more. He couldn’t wipe the grin off his face if he tried, even as he gasped for breath and waited for his head to stop spinning.

Eventually, he found the energy to wipe the edge of his cock clean against the back of AJ’s thigh before putting it back into his briefs. With his jeans and belt fastened once again, Dean patted AJ’s ass just once more time before walking out of the locker room.

“Gonna come back for that belt real soon, all right? Keep it shiny for me.”

As the door closed, AJ realized just the sort of situation Dean left him in. He was an absolute mess, covered in sweat and his hair sticky with cum, still despairingly hard. He sat up and glared at the door, shaking his head. 

“And _I’m_ the dick?”


End file.
